


Mirrors

by luvstcry



Category: SHINee
Genre: 2min - Freeform, M/M, Oneshot, PWP, SHINee - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:42:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29352885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvstcry/pseuds/luvstcry
Summary: In which Minho installed ceiling mirrors, specifically to be used when he spent time with Taemin in bed.
Relationships: Choi Minho/Lee Taemin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm starving and trying to collect 2min crumbs! Leave a comment if you enjoyed the read. <3

“Yeah. Copied that,” Taemin ruffled his hair, his phone was sandwiched in between his ear and his shoulder as he walked along the pavement, past the blocks and heading right back to his apartment. “I will drop by the studio tomorrow morning, then.”

It was a quarter past 6 on a rather glum Sunday, about two hours since he went walking down the riverside. He would’ve stayed a tad longer to enjoy the evening breeze if it wasn’t the clouds that slowly turned tar-black right above his head. There was no other option, anyway. Getting drenched was definitely not on his list when he decided to take a walk just to kill the time while waiting for his boyfriend to be home.

Punching in the codes, he twisted the doorknob open and the first thing he saw was Minho in the lounge, already so comfortable in his casual clothes. By casual, he meant sweatpants alone with Scotch on the rocks in one hand. The TV was on, so Taemin assumed he was watching some old series or movies like he always did whenever he was free. The last one was The Grand Budapest Hotel.

“Hey,” Taemin rounded the armchair and winded both arms around Minho’s neck from behind, gifting his cheek a light kiss before flicking his gaze to the screen. Downton Abbey this time. His lips twitched upwards into a small smile, “You’re home early. No overtime?”

Minho shook his head and took a short sip of his drink before closing a palm over Taemin’s forearm, caressing the skin affectionately. “No, I called it a day earlier than ever. I got a phone call about my parcel arriving in the post, but you weren’t at home,” Minho paused to peel Taemin’s hand off, only for him to pepper feather-like kisses on Taemin’s knuckles. Just one of the simplest acts that Taemin enjoyed most of the time. “So I came back and put them up for good uses.”

“Is that so?” He chuckled. “Sorry. I went to walk around. I thought you’d take at least five more hours to come back. What is it, anyway?”

Minho bit back a growing smirk, concealing it well by hiding it through the never-ending kisses on Taemin’s hand. “Oh, I _will_ show you. You will love it,” he uttered a beat too late, standing on his feet before steering Taemin into their shared bedroom. Nothing changed in particular, as far as Taemin could register. The bed was still the same as the Queen size and they had silk sheets rather than the regular ones, simply because Taemin’s skin was sensitive. But that was not something new. They’ve always used those. The end-table was no different. So was the closet, the armchair…

“There’s nothing new here,” he finally said, turning to see Minho closing the door and took another thorough view of the far too familiar room. Every corner was branded right at the back of his mind so, no. There was no way in hell and heavens above he couldn’t notice the change. There must be none, Taemin thought. Minho was definitely teasing him for this.

And it amused Minho. Because it was _his_ intention to make it subtle. He knew Taemin wouldn’t notice it if he didn’t point it out and somehow, that fact just made everything better. If anything, it only worked to make Minho chuckle—low and rumbling with the faintest hints of dark amusement coloring the otherwise joyous sound. It wouldn’t be so fun to always be straightforward about everything now, would it?

“Didn’t I say I will show you?” Minho spun Taemin around and locked the smaller frame in his arms, eyes darting down to meet his squarely. He watched as Taemin’s eyes widened in surprise, but clearly showed no resistance to his touch. Almost in a daze, Minho chuckled, since Taemin could barely emit a word. Not even one. Upon getting no reply, Minho held him tighter and leaned closer, two palms cupping Taemin’s arse and gave them a hard squeeze each. “Answer me,” he hushed. “I’m not fond of repeating myself, baby. You know that.”

“Yes,” Taemin sighed and gripped Minho’s shoulder instinctively, finding the sudden heavy dominance exerted in his voice maddeningly arousing. He cast his gaze low to Minho’s full lips, plump and inviting as he swallowed thickly before regaining the eye-contact again. “Yes, you did.”

“Very well,” Minho said, smirking faintly. If he wasn’t quick enough to keep up, he would’ve missed that one split second when Taemin’s gaze fell on his lips. Without further negotiations, he reduced the distance between their tiers and latched them together in a full, square lip-lock. The kiss was calm at first, tender and gentle, but it didn’t last long when Minho started to grope Taemin’s rump, kneading the flesh fast and tight to coax a whimper out of the latter.

Taemin had always been sensitive. So, _so_ sensitive and responsive. It was always so easy to get him excited, then even easier to rile him up with the thumping arousals throughout his being. And Minho loved every second of it. Hell, he could spend the rest of his life watching Taemin because he was just effortlessly irresistible. A fucking minx, on top of all. There was no way he could say no to Taemin, so he didn’t bother to.

Except it was a shame that both of them had been quite distant lately due to the inevitable demands of their jobs. Taemin usually came back home later than Minho did, attending myriads of events and photo sessions per day while Minho stayed longer in his office to settle his paperwork, simply because he didn’t want to bring the burdens home.

Because home, for Minho, was meant to be about Taemin.

His focus had to be on Taemin and only Taemin.

Still, they both struggled to scratch each event and task off the list every day. With Taemin having a manager to keep up with, Minho had a secretary of his own. It was like they were in the same post in a whole different industry. So each time they got to spend with each other, they would make the best of it. Anything that was possible to quench the feeling; the agony of not having each other within an arm’s reach. It may seem inane to others, but they had grown way too attached to even bear a second without either presence.

Not now, at least.

Not _ever_.

The kiss continued, if not progressed gradually into something borderline heated, messy and filthy. Minho nudged Taemin slightly, shifting his weight forward so Taemin would give in to take a few steps backward. One at a time, shaky and wobbly, until the back of his knees hit the bed and Taemin fell flat on his back with Minho following suit. Minho was the first to break away for air, the only pause he had ever taken since he started ravaging Taemin’s lips not less than five minutes ago. It could’ve been longer, but his lungs could only do so much at a time. Staring right underneath was Taemin, panting silently with his swollen lips cherry pink, slightly agape while drawing in repeated breaths to compensate for the loss of oxygen from the intense make-out session. Minho allowed him to.

But _fuck_ , if Taemin was not the most beautiful right there and then. He had his eyes shut, long lashes fluttering in efforts with his bleached strands sticking to his temple. He looked otherworldly and utterly, utterly debauched even before they could start. It made Minho clench his jaw, hard enough to reel it in. To momentarily bury the urge to devour this being that could pass as a fallen angel he proudly called his. Though Minho was not the most patient of all, he stole a wet, open-mouthed kiss from Taemin’s lips. The small contact earned him a soft mewl, in which Minho smiled in return before brushing Taemin’s fringe up and away, exposing his forehead for Minho to peck softly.

“Open your eyes, Tae,” came his command in a mere whisper, warm breath hitting Taemin’s philtrum while he was at it. Minho watched as the other peeled his eyes open, enabling their gazes to reconnect again. “Look up,” Minho continued, jerking his chin lightly in an upward direction. Once more, Taemin obeyed, sparing a glance up to the ceiling before eliciting a small gasp. There was a big—or better yet, massive—mirror mounted vertically right above them, going as far as the length of the bed to give the full view of what’s below. It was not there last night, Taemin quipped in his mind while staring at his own reflection still. The mirror was otherwise clean and the image it created was crystal clear that he would be lying if he said he didn’t see the crimson red coloring his cheeks from the distance.

“Do you like it?” Minho asked amusedly while eyeing Taemin’s reaction, already dipping low to give his neck a longing kiss, and another, then another. His lips were warm and damp, every press was heated against the pale, porcelain skin before the row of kisses turned into a string of biting with passionate suctions in between. As if on cue, Taemin tilted his head slightly and stretched his neck to expose its full span of milky skin, granting access for Minho to continue with the ministration. “I want you to look at yourself while I take you apart,” Minho whispered right onto Taemin’s sensitized skin, voice rumbling lowly that it sent shivers down his spine and straight to his groin, awakening his loins. “I want you to look at yourself while I have my most wicked ways with you. So you can see how much of a good boy you are for me…,” Minho lifted his head and aligned their torsos together, settling between the vee of Taemin’s legs. “And only for _me_.”

Taemin opened his mouth to come up with a reply but his words ended up getting stuck in his throat when Minho suddenly weighed down onto his crotch, their clothed, heated erections pressed together just in time as he started rocking his hips slowly. The presence of barrier clothes only aimed to intensify the frictions created as Taemin returned the favor, bucking his hips and grinding right against Minho with a stifled moan—one that only grew in volume over time. Distracting was definitely an understatement at that moment because Taemin couldn’t even wrap his head around anything before Minho, without wanting to waste any time, straightforwardly rejoined their lips together in a bruising kiss. Their hands began to roam wildly around each other, touching every single reachable part of their bodies. Within a minute, their clothes were discarded entirely and dumped elsewhere; they could be on the floor or the edge of the bed, a place that none of them cared to recognize for the time being.

Skin against skin, heated and desperate, Minho didn’t have a hard time clearing his mind as his focus zeroed in on Taemin’s body alone. He enjoyed worshipping Taemin like that, soaking in every little reaction the younger brought about when he changed from a spot to another. As Minho drew himself lower, lining up kisses down Taemin’s pectorals and abs, his hip then his navel, the potent arousal started to pulse terrifyingly fast through his veins, giving his body a great jolt of electricity alongside the sensation brought by Minho’s tongue and lips on his skin.

“Mhm, Minho…”

Taemin had his dainty fingers buried deeply in Minho’s locks and he pulled on the strands hard when Minho decided to push on his nipple with the tip of his tongue, slow and persistent until the nub turned hard and painfully erected. He was obviously suffering from the tease but Minho, on the other hand, was having too much fun with it.

Because he knew he was the only one who could dote on Taemin like that.

And Taemin just couldn’t hide anything. He was evidently staggering on a thin line between demanding and asking with goosebumps weaving through his body as Minho sucked on, persistent and continuous, uncaring of the younger’s jerky movement.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Minho whispered sternly upon reaching Taemin’s legs. A pair of warm, fairly calloused and rough palms kneading gently before spreading them open and wide by the knees just so he could settle his head in between and spread more kisses along Taemin’s inner thighs. “I want you to watch yourself,” he bit into flesh hard before sucking the bite mark immediately, darkening the color of the bruise from pink to red then purple. It was meant to bait a moan out of the pretty boy, and moaning Taemin did—clear and loud as he arched his back. He then opened his eyes obligingly and stared up, taking in the sight of Minho burrowing his face in between his legs as if it was the most casual thing he would do any day in his life.

Despite finding it embarrassing, Taemin had to agree that the whole situation just got times better with the presence of the mirrors. Perhaps a tad sexier, or so much more erotic than purely intended. Either way, it was fulfilling for Taemin that he had a difficult time trying to get used to the unfamiliar, borderline crazy good feelings he was experiencing. _Jesus fuck_ , he uttered under his breath. _So fucking kinky_.

“Stop staring,” Taemin muttered as Minho pulled back and raked his gaze down Taemin’s naked form, admiring the splotches of red and purple that he personally carved. They created such a beautiful contrast on Taemin’s otherwise pale and softer skin, Minho thought. It invoked the possessiveness in his body and the caged monster roared in victory before his eyes landed on Taemin’s standing cock, leaking and throbbing but untouched. Smirking, Minho took hold of Taemin’s calf and dragged it further to the side, exposing Taemin completely to his prying eyes as his gaze now fixated on the fluttering hole, empty but inviting in its nature.

If there was one thing that Minho liked the most at desperate times like this, it was probably the way Taemin turned fully pliant and submissive. He was not usually like that. He was cheeky and bratty, always had his ways around problems and words to fire Minho up which, in turn, always ended up with him getting pressed on a wall while getting drilled on mercilessly. Taemin loved that, though. Christ, he _worked_ to achieve that consequence. Anything but giving in, he would do it in a heartbeat. But some other times, the minx just became a fully flustered kitten. Not knowing how, not knowing why; he just did. Stuttering and whimpering, all sensitive to Minho’s touch that he yearned for more. Asking. _Begging_ , even.

“You’re so gorgeous, Taemin,” Minho spoke up again, completely disregarding Taemin’s request earlier. He was still staring shamelessly while Taemin had his eyes shut, not daring to even look at Minho as he was afraid that he might just burst. But no, Minho wanted him to watch himself. That was cheating, wasn’t it? So, out of instinct, he circled the rim faintly with a dry thumb, regaining Taemin’s attention as he sprung his eyes open again. “Look up, baby. I’m starting.”

Minho dropped himself on his torso after Taemin hummed in approval, two large hands cupping the underside of Taemin’s thighs to hold them up and spread him further. He gave a gentle tap on Taemin’s wrist and smiled in gratitude when the younger between the two caught his innuendo, thus holding his legs up on his own. Spreading Taemin’s arse cheeks, Minho then blew damp, warm air onto the quivering hole, watching in amusement as it fluttered in anticipation before gifting the sensitive perineum a small kiss. And one more, then another. It became a string of wet kisses for a long moment before Minho decided that it was enough and started to seal it with a deep suction, his wet tongue taking repeated swipes across the curl of Taemin’s entrance. The latter was moaning and shaking, but it only drove Minho to work better that soon enough, he stiffened his tongue and rolled it in, opening Taemin up slowly and easily at a pleasurable pace.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, Minho. Fuck—ah, _hng_.”

Taemin’s heart was pounding frantic tattoo against his ribcage as he kept his gaze fixed on the mirror. He was sweating profusely and his abs clenched deliciously that it appeared palpable there, but Minho seemed to stay unbothered with all those tiny jerks and swift shudder. If anything, he only went wilder by delving his tongue deeper, his hair tickling Taemin’s inner thigh as he tilted his head to accommodate the best angle to accomplish his task.

It was a moment after that when Taemin realized the presence of a single long digit prodding his entrance, slipping right in shallowly alongside the tongue that never stopped jabbing in and out, fucking him in earnest. It was a bellowing moan escaping his throat that resounded throughout the room, causing Minho to smirk wickedly. He groaned lowly next when Taemin tightened up, watching as the entrance closed around his finger and sucking the entire length in until he was knuckle-deep inside. Minho pushed further, more and more, not stopping unless he met the limit before curling and twirling as he pleased to press on Taemin’s milky walls. All the while, he was peeking at Taemin’s facial expression searchingly, the playful smile etched across his face still. “More?”

Taemin nodded mutedly, “More. Add more.” And Minho gave him exactly that. A finger became two, then three as he shoved them in and out of Taemin rhythmically, gauging more responses and noises from the writhing being underneath. He was stunning. So fucking stunning that Minho’s mouth ran dry, that he stopped breathing without himself realizing it. Even more so upon catching a glimpse of the creamy bead on top of Taemin’s cock that spurted for every thrust he received, _fuck_. And yet, he dared himself to watch on. To study the way Taemin would push his arse against Minho’s fingers; grinding, sinking, bucking, all that it took to have those digits sticking in deeper than intended. But as soon as he turned into a complete mess, smashing words randomly and incoherently, Minho knew he was close. He noticed the tell-tale signs of Taemin nearing his orgasm and it was a fucking beauty right there. “M—Minho, enough… Enough, take them out. Fuck, I will finish before you can even start.”

No, that will never happen. Deciding it was _really_ enough to stretch Taemin open and nice, Minho dragged himself up to devour Taemin’s lips again, channeling the carnal want into another round of passionate kiss. Lacking finesse, honestly, but Minho couldn’t bear having Taemin or himself coming without being encompassed within the heat. Plus, Taemin was still staring at the mirror, probably hypnotized by the art of their own reflection. The thought just easily caused Minho’s smirk to resurface. He pulled his fingers out agonizingly slow, one by one, easing the burn before snatching the lube with the same hand. Pouring a dollop onto one palm, Minho began to coat his own fully hardened cock, hissing instinctively when the tip twitched. After all, watching Taemin fucking himself on Minho’s fingers was enough to force some pre-cum to leak, trailing down one side of his shaft to lubricate him further.

God, he was _so_ fucking hard it wasn’t even funny.

“Minho, please,” Taemin whispered breathlessly as they broke the kiss, propping himself on one elbow while staring up at his boyfriend. His glazed gaze captured Minho’s dead-on, a look that was a mixture of lust and desperation with faint streaks of urgency. He was getting bolder, it seemed. Needier at a point, and unknowingly harder until Minho couldn’t take it anymore. He had to do it or he would burst, otherwise. “Fuck me.”

“With pleasure,” Minho gritted heavily and held the base of his cock, positioning it right against Taemin’s waiting hole. “Keep your eyes open,” he kissed Taemin once more before guiding the mushroom head in slowly, inch by delicious inch, breaching Taemin open wider than his fingers did and could ever do. Minho kissed Taemin’s gasp away and crashed their mouths again, swallowing the noises as he pushed in, in and _in_ , until he was completely sheathed to the hilt, enveloped by the heat of Taemin’s body.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Minho groaned hoarsely, giving time for Taemin to acclimatize to the overwhelming feeling of having Minho’s cock deeply buried inside before pulling out slowly and humped right back in. When Taemin moaned, Minho repeated it, slow and steady with an easy rhythm to start off with. Over and over, he never let up the power while watching Taemin’s ever-changing facial expression. Once he knew Taemin had grown accustomed to the size, Minho picked up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in sharply with another wanton groan. Except for this time, he didn’t stop. Not as he claimed purchase on Taemin’s neck and sucked the skin with a vengeance, not occasionally, not at all. “Eyes open,” he kept his hips canted just nice, improvising the calculated motions and quickened the speed just by a notch to continue pounding into Taemin with relentless vigor. “Eyes _always_ open, Taemin.” Minho only needed to find that spot. That one spot that would drive Taemin mad, that would make him choke on his own moans. He only needed to hit it right and everything would blur away. Harder, so close—

“There! There, fuck,” Taemin squirmed and grappled at Minho’s shoulders, as if shockwaves burnt him alive that he grew restless. “Again, again, again,” he repeated urgently under his breath like a mantra, words coming out in strained staccatos as Minho obeyed: thrusting in a little harder, a little deeper, just the way Taemin liked it. And he knew he found it right when Taemin’s body shuddered impulsively, even putting a halt to his keen noises from the blinding pleasure. They were on cloud nine, bodies joined into one. Their movement started to fall out of pattern and turned frantic, erotically erratic, but it was Taemin’s desperation that spurred Minho on. So he aimed the prostate with deadly precision, certain that Taemin was meeting him halfway to multiply the heightening bliss.

Now that Minho came to think of it. Nothing, as he could recall, would ever match this. He had never, ever felt anything remotely close to this before. That was not the first time he had sex with Taemin, considering the fact they dated for so long already. But each time, it just got better and better. He felt like his body was ignited, heated to no end as they bounced together. It had been like a few minutes in and already, Minho felt the lead ball uncoiling in the pit of his stomach. Taemin, on the other hand, was drilled into submission that he barely had any willpower to fight. Eyes rolled back, legs bent and held high, he could feel the arousal spiraling up to settle right on the bundles of nerves that he only afforded to bunch up the bedsheets for dear life, knuckles turning pale and white.

“Minho, I’m close. I’m getting so close—” Taemin whimpered while grinding his teeth, face contorted into the greatest twist of pleasure. Ecstasy was mounting over and over, layering one another as Minho proceeded with the onslaught of thrusts, unfaltering and without reprieve despite the overwhelming tightness of Taemin’s walls when he grew overly sensitive. The heat and tautness were borderline mind-blowing, far too good for Minho to take that he spat out pre-cum inside, slicking his movement up further to fuck Taemin into oblivion. More, more, _more_.

“Not yet,” Minho groaned, forcing Taemin’s arse cheeks open to jerk his hips better without any shred of mercy. Taemin was nearly folded into two but he was otherwise occupied to even get uncomfortable in that position. He was born naturally flexible, anyway. All the more reason for Minho to go rougher, since they established it before that Taemin was certainly made of everything but fragility. “Hold on a bit more,” he hissed against Taemin’s trembling jaw, a string of ah’s and oh’s escaping his lips as he submitted to Minho’s unforgiving pace. Taemin was dizzy with lust and want while Minho tried to suck it out to the very last bits.

Truth was, Minho got terrifyingly near too. Waves of pleasure crashing over him again and again, sending sparks down his spine then lit all the way up to the back of his eyes. He only needed Taemin to wait a bit more, because nothing was as satisfying to Minho as keeping Taemin on edge—controlling his surge of orgasm and watching the expressions fleeting on his face as he begged for a release. _A bit more_ , Minho thrust forward, dragging Taemin up from the force. _Just a bit more_ , he repeated in his mind while impaling Taemin as deep as he could possibly go. Groaning, Minho inched his lips closer to Taemin’s ear and whispered, rough and demanding, “Come for me.”

A quick glance in the mirror to see Minho’s broad, muscular back engulfing his smaller frame was the last straw for Taemin. It brought him right to the edge, coming undone and untouched as he fell right off the brink by spurting his loads out in a loud cry of Minho’s name. His body convulsed against Minho, muscles gliding smoothly underneath as spasms took over. _So fucking beautiful_ , Minho noted in between the last few consistent thrusts—one, twice, thrice—before sinking deep into Taemin with a gasp. He reached the peak of his climax closely after and painted Taemin’s inside white; warm, loaded and white, flooding him right to the brim with a long-drawn groan. The orgasm was punched right out of Minho like a bullet that he had to stop instantly, only moving after a moment when he was sure he could handle the friction.

“Fuck,” Minho panted, dropping his head to rest it on Taemin’s as he regained his breath. However, when the cheeky brat clenched around his spent cock methodically to force the residue out, Minho let out a disgruntled moan and smacked Taemin's right arse-cheek, groping it tight. “Stop that, you. I will fucking—”

“Can’t waste even a drop now, can we?” Taemin remarked, his tongue resting against the back of his own teeth.

Minho snorted and leaned forward to kiss Taemin’s lips deeply, nudging them apart to suck on his tongue that was lax and sweet, tasting him languidly. “No, we can’t,” he hushed, undulating his hips again to bait a whimper out of the other.

“What do you say about the mirror?” Minho asked again after a while with the words muffling against Taemin’s chin. He just couldn't stop kissing Taemin. “Not so bad, was it? Did you enjoy watching yourself that way?”

There was a silence for a moment. Long enough for Minho to assume that Taemin might’ve fallen asleep due to the exhaustion. But so suddenly he was flipped over and Taemin laid on top, smirking lewdly down at him. He then gestured at the mirror and Minho’s gaze trailed after. “What about…,” Taemin started, already gyrating his hips in a circle as Minho groaned once more, almost resembling a snarl from the intense pressure that contributed to the unwarranted pleasure. He chuckled.

“What about I let _you_ experience it yourself, Minho?”


End file.
